


Strangers

by Nanyoky



Series: Quickbird Revolution [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Riley/Sam Wilson, Protests, Sam is in the battle of sokovia, Sexual Content, Sokovia, Soldiers, angsty sexual content, mostly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8597602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanyoky/pseuds/Nanyoky
Summary: "Desperate. That's what the officer had said about the people here. There was much of that in the way the stranger kissed."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I told you there might be angst. I promise the next fic in this series will be appallingly fluffy to heal you after this mostly canon compliant one. Every MCU movie needs more Sam Wilson, so I tried my hand at bringing the Falcon to Sokovia. This series so far has been all AUs, so I thought something at least within the canon universe might be in order, even if I tweaked the plot.  
> Small note: if you read my Wanda-centric fic, "I Not We" you may recognize some small details in this one. This is not because I mean for this story to take place in that same universe- just that I have very strong feelings about twin backstories and Sokovia, so I am using some things twice.

Sam's mother always told him he needed to learn to say no. He told her that didn't really apply to finishing your tour of duty. Granted, he was injured. He could have pushed back against the order. But the thought of coming home to his apartment weighed on him. He'd thought too much about what Riley would look like in his spaces to be comfortable seeing it empty. He wasn't ready for the oppressive silence he hadn't felt since before he was sent overseas.

So he hadn't said a word when they stationed him for his remaining two months in Sokovia. They called it a "transition" assignment.

"There's no real action. No real resistance. There's just protesters. They're angry, and things get rough, but they're no guerrillas. Mostly just a bunch of hungry kids. Their lot sucks and people can get pretty desperate when they realize they have no real way out. So I won't pretend it's a quiet assignment. But compared to what you've been through, it'll feel quiet."

The plane touched down at 2am. There were almost no cabs at the airport. He'd tried to study a few simple phrases on the plane, but still somehow ended up in a heated argument over a misunderstanding with the first cabbie he spoke to. When the same thing happened at the next car, he gave up and started to walk under the direction of his phone's GPS.

Google evidently hadn't updated their directions since the last time the city had been bombed. Sam was hopelessly lost within an hour. It was hard to tell, with the entire city shelled out and looted, but if he had to guess, he would say that he had managed to get onto the wrong side of the tracks. Nearly every alley was full of barely moving lumps of ragged clothes and blankets.

People stared or called at him. He stood out, even if the city wasn't exactly pasty white. Sam was glad he wasn't wearing his army fatigues. He didn't speak any of the seeming hundreds of languages spoken in the city, but the graffiti wasn't hard to decipher. Soldiers were not welcome in Sokovia.

But after another half hour of wandering, he needed help. Unfortunately, no one looked up when he tried to address them. Until he came across a group of young people standing around a trashcan fire, passing a dark bottle.

_"_ _Helló. Meg tudja mondani, hol van a Vörös Király kérem?"_

The officer giving him his assignment had said not to ask about the US base. He was to go to the _Vörös Király,_ the finest hotel in the city, then up two blocks to the base.

The group at large ignored him, but two figures in the back glanced over their shoulders.

 _"Ez úgy hangzik, mint egy katona,"_ the round-faced girl turned slowly, eyeing him as she rolled what looked like a joint between her fingers. _"Mit csinál olyan távol a barátok?"_

"Ah-" Sam had only caught every few words. "Sorry- does anyone speak any English? Or Spanish?"

"No one speak English here," the boy next to the young woman who had already spoke turned as well, a wicked smirk on his thin lips. "No luck, soldier."

Sam scowled. "Oh yeah? No one speaks English?"

"No one. We have no education here," the young woman's eyes glinted as she met his gaze defiantly. "Go home where it is safe."

Some of the others in the gang started chiming in, but it seemed only the two in the back were capable of taunting him in English.

"Forget it."

He got nearly a block, ignoring their jeering, before there was a call behind him.

"Soldier! Wait!"

"I'm tired, kid. I'm goin to my hotel."

"Am not 'kid.'"

Sam glanced wearily over at the young man jogging up to match his stride. Even under his layers of jackets and hoodies, he looked too-thin- the way war orphans in every country did. It was hard to tell how old he was. Malnutrition and hard living had given him a no doubt permanent old child look.

"Look like one to me."

"I not," the stranger had now matched his pace and walked with him. "You _are_ soldier. No reason for Americans here unless that."

Sam said nothing. If he was lucky, the stranger would get bored and leave him alone.

"Just starting? Or already hard soldier man with much killing?"

His tone was still mocking, but he seemed to actually expect an answer.

"End of my tour."

"And they send here?"

He shouldn't have answered. But he was tired and it didn't seem to matter what he did aside from getting to the base.

"Yes."

"You fuck up too much?"

"Got hurt."

"I think is because you fuck too much."

"You mean 'fuck up.'"

"What I say?" His smile showed he knew exactly what he had just said. "I no speak English."

Sam didn't respond this time.

"You go army base?"

"I am going to the _Vörös Király._ "

"That what soldiers say when first come. You go army base."

"If you're so sure."

"I know where is army base."

He was baiting him, and Sam wasn't going to rise to it.

"You not want to go there?"

"I don't really trust you, believe it or not."

"We could go somewhere else."

Sam grit his teeth and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. It was fucking cold. Europe hadn't gotten the memo that it was April yet.

"Hey-"

A hand grabbed Sam's arm and he twisted out of the grip, facing off automatically. The stranger stepped back, his palms raised.

"Woah- hey- no fight. No fight." He grinned and slowly lowered his hands as Sam relaxed. "I forget. Soldier."

Sam rolled his eyes and was about to snap something, but, quick as lightning, the stranger had ducked in and was kissing him.

Sam should be angry, disgusted, something. But the last person he'd kissed was blown to pieces before his eyes less than a month ago.

He didn't feel anything.

He didn't move. His whole mind and body had shut down. When it was clear that he was neither responding nor resisting, the stranger gripped the front of his jacket and kissed harder. Desperate. That's what the officer had said about the people here. There was much of that in the way the stranger kissed. That and the clacking of teeth and bony fists pulling tighter at the zippered edges of Sam's coat.

"You're no fun."

His words would have been light, except that his voice was almost a snarl. He pulled back only far enough to speak, his body still flush with Sam's. His grip was strong, but he felt alarmingly bony under all his clothes. He was clearly annoyed- maybe even angry. His voice was just as tight and desperate as his kiss.

Sam couldn't see much in the dark and at such close quarters, but he saw the stranger blink and his anger flicker. But then there was an eruption of cheers and laughter down the road behind them. The little gang had followed them.

The stranger pulled up a broad grin as he stepped back and swept a dramatic bow at his gang of hooting friends. He snatched at Sam's hip to pull them against one another again, but Sam turned away to continue down the empty street, the jeers and whistles still directed at his back.

"So long, Soldier! _Beszéljünk máskor is_."

Sam glanced back behind him once it seemed clear the group wouldn't follow him anymore. The round faced girl with the joint had jumped onto the stranger's back and he carried her as the group made their way back to their garbage can. As if she knew she was being watched, the girl turned, craning her neck back to glare at Sam. Like she knew her companion's show hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped and knew it was Sam's fault for being numb and not reacting properly.

~

Sam found the base and was on duty the next afternoon. It mostly involved monitoring perimeters and making the rounds in the interior of the city. There was a SHIELD base out in the mountains, but Sam didn't have the rank to deal with any of their agents.

There was never any trouble in the city. Not that the locals liked any of the soldiers. The moment anyone in uniform passed, conversations became curt, every civilian's eyes on the soldier until they passed by. Even the children glared like they had the same years of hardship to fuel their distaste as their parents.

Sam didn't mind the isolation. He kept to himself on base, and with no one attempting to speak to him in the city, it was easy to empty his mind in peace.

The first major protest happened after his third week. It was ugly. The tear gas was thick enough that even with his mask, Sam couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him. He was assigned to injury evac, and he was grateful. No one would feel good about knocking down the starving civilians as they fought through the gas's effects.

"Get off of him!"

The English shouting made him pause, and the gas cleared just enough for Sam to see the scuffle nearest him. It was hectic, and the sun was bright, but he knew it was them. The boy was curled on the ground, trying to shield his head from the baton raining down on him. With a feral scream, the girl came at the soldier. Her hands scrambled at his mask, and once it was dislodged, those small pale fists started pounding with a force that wouldn't seem possible coming from her frame. Sam might have been amazing in any other situation. She had no fear. She had to be 100 pounds of skin and bones, including her too-big combat boots. The soldier likely hadn't crushed her to pieces more out of shock than anything else. Sam's gut twisted. That shock wouldn't last long.

The boy was stumbling to his feet, and seeing the scuffle, joined in hitting the soldier fast and hard anywhere he could reach. Sam threw himself into the mess, trying to drag the three bodies apart. An elbow hit his head and he saw stars.

"Med bay!" He shouted at the soldier. "Report to med bay! Now!"

He managed to separate them just enough for the soldier to obey. Sam had an arm out, keeping the two kids from coming after their opponent as he slipped back behind the shields.

"You two-" he didn't know why he was addressing them. It was too chaotic to hope they would hear clearly, let alone listen. "Get outta here! Hear me? Gunna get yourselves killed actin like this!"

~

The first time, he really shouldn't have. Not that he should have any time. But the first time felt the most questionable.

He'd whistled at Sam from the mouth of an alley.

"Still here, Soldier?"

Sam stopped and took him in. He looked sick, in the light of day. Like he hadn't slept indoors in a long time and it had been possibly longer since he'd eaten his fill. His face looked hollow and there was an almost bruise-like darkness around his eyes. He was rolling either a joint or just a cigarette, there was no way to tell with the grubby paper.

"That somethin that's gunna get you into trouble?" he nodded down at the stranger's hands as he approached cautiously. He stopped over a yard away, not wanting to give the impression this was a pleasant conversation.

"I don't know what means this." He straightened up away from the wall and drifted a bit, closing the gap between them in increments. It would be obvious how uncomfortable he was if Sam stepped back.

"You do."

"Maybe," he grinned and jerked his head toward the alley. "You come with?"

"Where to?"

The stranger shrugged again. "Somewhere."

He knew what was about to happen and he didn't stop it. The kiss was rough and fast again, but this time, Sam responded. He still didn't feel anything, but he didn't think of Riley either, and it was an improvement. The stranger's hands didn't shake as hard when they were gripping his jacket. When they slid down to Sam's belt, he pulled away.

"I don't screw around in back alleys, Kid."

"Don't call me-"

"Look like one."

The stranger gripped his jaw with surprising strength. Sam refused to pull away, mostly because he wasn't sure if he could, should he try.

"You want to fuck a kid?" He snarled. "Is this what you want?"

Sam stared at him- not that he had any other choice when they were so close. He didn't look like a teenager this close, but there was enough doubt for Sam to set his teeth.

"How-"

"Twenty. That enough?"

He could be lying. Sam had no reason to believe him. But he still followed the stranger to the hotel. At the desk, Sam moved for his wallet, but he shoved his hand into his chest and pulled a wad of crumpled bills from his pocket instead.

"I don't get pay to fuck."

The desk clerk either didn't speak English, or was used to these types of conversations playing out.

It was a disgusting place. The sheets looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks. Sam liked to think of himself as a quiet, reasonable person. He generally followed rules and convention- unless he had a compelling reason not to. He graduated high school with a 4.0, went to a reasonably priced private college with a good reputation, joined the service to finish off his loans, and never gave his superiors any reason to reprimand him beyond minor infractions. He paid his rent on time, called his mother regularly, and read at least one new book per month. He'd never gone to a sleazy hotel with a complete stranger and kissed them against doors with chipped paint and suspicious stains. He'd never shoved them down onto creaky, lumpy mattresses and only unbuckled and unzipped unceremoniously. He'd never fucked fast and sloppy- pulling hair and biting throats and barely saying anything at all. But he didn't think of Riley until they were both finished and panting- lying in their sweat and cum like teenagers still figuring out how this was supposed to work, so the afternoon went into the books as a win.

Sam got up and cleaned up in the bathroom after. He washed his face and pressed it into one of the course, grey towels.

"You gotta tell me your name."

"I don't."

Sam scowled and returned to the main room. The stranger had pulled his jeans back on but seemed to have gotten distracted before zipping them up and finding his shirt.

"Is that my wallet?"

"Shaaaamooel Veelshone." He was flicking through the cards. "Very boring name."

"Real funny, Dracula. Hand it over."

"Born 1982- you are 30 years old? Look good. Eyes: Brown. Hair: Black. Blablabla..." He flicked through a few more items in the wallet and Sam crossed the room quickly.

"Give that back-"

"So many cards- what for?"

"I said-" He snatched at the wallet, but the stranger pulled it out of his reach. "Give that back to me."

"Took it before we even started. You don't notice until now?" He raised his eyebrows. "Not very good soldier-"

Sam pinned his arm and made another snatch at the wallet. He managed to grab one corner and half the contents spilled all over the bed.

"Shit-"

"Look what you did-"

"Shut up."

The stranger paused as his sharp tone, maybe sensing that he didn't want to be teased about this any longer. Sam gathered up the fallen scraps of paper as quickly as he could, hoping beyond hope the one he was looking for wouldn't be noticed. His heart sank as he saw it under the stranger's elbow.

"What is this?" The stranger found it before he could reach it. "Photo?"

"Give that back. Now."

Something in his voice must have let him know how serious Sam was. He held out the picture after only a quick glance.

"Ferencz."

"What's that mean?" Sam didn't look at him as he carefully slid the photo of Riley back into its place behind all his cards.

"You can call me that, if you like."

This made him pause and meet the stranger's eyes.

"That your real name?"

"No." He propped himself up on one arm and didn't seem to be teasing anymore. "Grandfather's."

It felt like an apology for seeing Riley without meaning to. Sam nodded, feeling oddly closer to the other man than when they were fucking.

"Thanks, Ferencz."

He shifted and before he knew what he was deciding to do, he was kissing him. Not like before, but not like Rhiley either. He wouldn't ever kiss anyone like Rhiley. But it was slower and more deliberate than it had been before, and the stranger made a muffled noise against his lips and twisted away from him.

"What are you-"

"You ready to go again?"

The stranger stared at him, but nodded, stretching up to catch his mouth. He kept his eyes and lips closed this time- like he wanted to suppress any noise- though this hadn't been a concern the first time. Every one of his muscles was tensed- like he was using every ounce of strength he could manage in the act of restraint. Still, small noises escaped his throat, strangled and strained. Sam kept pulling back to ask if he was alright, but he gripped his neck or hip and only spoke to urge him on.

_"_ _Könyörgöm. Nem lehet megállítani."_

Sam's Magyar still wasn't fluent, but he knew urgency and need when he heard it.

~

The quinjet requisitioned for the team's use was a bit quicker making the trip than the last plane Sam had taken between the US and Eastern Europe, five years ago. It landed outside of Budapest. Sam would fly alone the rest of the way.

"Cap- I'm on my way, buddy."

"Party's already started, Wilson. I need my wing man."

"Sorry, Steve. I'm almost there."

He didn't need navigation to tell him where to go.

"Holy..."

"Yeah-" Natasha's communication line crackled. "It's bad."

"No shit, Romanov."

The city was flying miles above the ground. A great chunk of earth lifted right off the face of the globe.

"You know, just once, I'd like the three of us to get together and just have a nice drink. Maybe some peanuts and fries."

"Civilian evac is your number one priority. You can get in and out like some of us can't. The goggles Stark gave you should help you get heat signatures in-"

"Relax, Steve, it's only a flying city. This ain't my first rodeo."

He started with the upper floors of buildings. People who were blocked or trapped by unsafe stairways. There were plenty. His arms were aching after bringing just a few to the helicarrier. He grimly thought it was lucky so many of the destitute civilians were underweight.

"Good work, birdman," the Iron Man suit soared past with a bathtub full of children. "East end of the city is clear for upper floors. Start hitting basements and alleys."

Sam dropped down between a parking garage and an apartment building.

"Alright kids, I can only do two at a time, so-" he took a moment to catch his breath, trying to figure out a strategy for the clump of children that was huddled behind a dumpster. _"_ _K_ _ettő."_ He held up two fingers. _"Azt, hogy kéttő. Mások várni."_

The five children clutched at each other, shaking and staring at him with round eyes.

"Come on kids. I-"

The brick above his head exploded and the children screamed. Sam whipped around just in time to catch the arm of the metal creature coming at him. He managed to pull the lever on his arm guard that released his guns and blow a hole in its chest, but not without significant struggle. When the metal man fell, his view was clear to see three more of its kind coming towards the alley.

"Goddammit-"

Before he could think, before he could breath- a red cloud washed the space in front of him. Sam froze, his mind trying to process what was happening as the cloud seemed to dismantle the machines with just a touch. When they were nothing but piles of mangled parts on the ground, the red melted away, clearing Sam's path. He kept watching the mouth of the alley, waiting for what other fresh hell the city had to offer.

The young woman looked healthier than the last time he'd seen her. A few years older too. She still looked tired, and he wasn't sure where the makeup ended and the dark circles began. But her round face had filled out and she didn't look like she was about to fall over at the next stiff breeze. Her eyes still flashed with the same defiance and anger. But now they glowed red as she stalked cautiously forward, hand outstretched.

"Hey- over here," he took a chance, waving her over. He didn't know who or even what she was, but she was tearing apart the metal men like dolls, so he figured that was the sign of an ally. "I need help gettin these kids out!"

She turned and joined them, speaking quickly to the children. They nodded to whatever she said and the smallest lifted his arms so she could pick him up.

"Someone is coming to help-" she snapped at Sam. He doubted she recognized him in his wings and goggles- or even remembered him at all. "Take-"

There was another exploding chunk of wall. Sam swore and started for the fresh wave of metal men while the woman protected the children. But he was pinned to the ground in no time, a metal hand reaching for his face.

There was a flash and crash like lightening and Sam blinked. Nothing was holding him down anymore. Just a mess of scrap metal clinking to the concrete around him.

"Fuck you, metal bastards!"

Sam scrambled up as a wild, sharp laugh punctuated the air. He jumped as a streak of light flashed and suddenly there was a man standing in the mouth of the alley, stalking back and forth like a guard dog. In another blur of light, the nearest metal man was scattered into a million pieces.

"You think-" the light solidified into the man again. "You can fuck with this city?" Another flash and spray of metal. "This is _my_ city! You think you know the streets here? I will be there on every one! You hear me, fucks?" That wild laugh again. "This is my home- get the fuck out!"

"Your English has gotten better!" Sam called. He knew it was the stranger. He was older, about 60 pounds of muscle heavier, and with hair bleached down to white. But the sharp voice and desperate energy were unmistakable. He whipped around, frowning. Sam was sure he wouldn't recognize him, but the stranger's face broke out into a huge grin.

"Soldier!" He laughed and in an instant, stood directly in front of Sam, slapping his shoulder. "I don't know if fucking robots speak Sokovian!"

"Come on- there's-" but in another flash, the stranger was gone and back, one child clinging to his shoulders, another in his arms. "Alright. You got it covered."

"Too slow, Soldier!"

And he was gone again. Sam shook his head, fighting down a grin. He grabbed the last two children and made for the helicarrier.

~

Somehow, he knew at the scream. The helicarrier was pulling away from the wreckage of the former city. Most of the civilians had gotten over the relief and watched, tears streaming down their faces, as the only home they had ever known fell back to earth. Some cried over the bodies of loved ones, held each other as the dead were counted and identified. But no one screamed like the sound that came from the young woman with the glowing red eyes.

Sam watched her as she sank to the ground, her round face contorted in an inhuman mask in her grief. Her shaking hands lifted his head into her lap and tried to wipe the blood from his mouth.

Sam was strangely aware of how solid the tarmac felt under his feet, and how red the blood seeping through the stranger's shirt was. He looked so different that Sam could almost pretend it wasn't the same pale, wane stranger that kissed and fucked with desperation in every scrape of teeth against skin. The woman wailed like there was something inside her fighting violently to get out as she tried her best to pull him up and hold him.

Sam's tunnel vision was so complete he didn't notice Natasha was standing next to him until she spoke.

"You gunna be alright, Soldier?"

He looked down at her and tried to remember how to speak for what felt like an age. She looked from him to where he had been staring and pulled up a sad sort of half smile that made her look older than she was.

"It's always the ones leaving someone behind, isn't it?"

He thought about Riley and the stranger in the same breath for the first time in years.


End file.
